


Ascension

by below_the_starry_clusters_bright



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fic Exchange, elevator scene, look at these two touch-starved idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:59:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/below_the_starry_clusters_bright/pseuds/below_the_starry_clusters_bright
Summary: Prompt: The scene in the elevator takes an unexpected turn as it breaks down leaving Rey and Kylo by themselves for a while longer."Everything plunges into darkness. The elevator lurches with the catastrophic sound of wrenching metal. With only a second to curse her bound wrists, Rey pitches forwards and braces herself for the pain of landing. In place of gravity there are two hands, one on her shoulder, the other wrapped around her waist. They yank her upright and backwards, until she hits something solid which releases a small, pained breath on impact.Ben.Holding her to him. Keeping her safe."





	Ascension

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benperor-ren (winterelf86)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterelf86/gifts).



> Couple things. Rey’s outfit at this point in the movie isn’t super conducive to what happens in the fic but if you only believe in fic when it’s plausible, you’ll never make it through the night (trademark General Leia Organa).
> 
> Recommended listening: High For This by The Weeknd. That, along with the name of the fic, may or may not be an elevator pun. I am sorry.
> 
> Written as part of the More Than Love 2018 Valentine's Exchange, for renperor-of-the-galaxy (winterelf86). It isn't as smutty as I thought it would be, but I hope you enjoy anyway! The prompt is "The scene in the elevator takes an unexpected turn as it breaks down leaving Rey and Kylo by themselves for a while longer." The fic begins midway through the movie's elevator scene, but it isn't necessarily to pinpoint an exact moment.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ben –”

Everything plunges into darkness. The elevator lurches with the catastrophic sound of wrenching metal. With only a second to curse her bound wrists, Rey pitches forwards and braces herself for the pain of landing. In place of gravity there are two hands, one on her shoulder, the other wrapped around her waist. They yank her upright and backwards, until she hits something solid which releases a small, pained breath on impact.

Ben.

Holding her to him. Keeping her safe.

There are no further sounds from the elevator, nothing to suggest further danger, but Rey doesn’t move and Ben doesn’t let her go. Their breaths are ragged in the darkness. Rey closes her eyes. _I should have felt trapped, or panicked_. Hadn’t she said those exact words to Ben only hours ago? Yet now, just like then, there is only quiet determination that she’s on the right track.

The hand at her waist vanishes. Rey lets out a breath – _not_ a sigh – but then a comforting weight rests on her other shoulder. There’s a hesitation on both their parts, and then the tiniest pressure from Ben’s fingers as his hands skim the length of Rey’s arms. He stops at her cuffs and leans further into her, cradling her in a twisted embrace. Rey’s heart jumps at the contact. Ben shifts behind her, and a moment later his lips brush against her temple. It’s a soft, intimate thing, made all the more precious by his uncertainty and the way his fingers tremble.

Rey wants to sigh, to close her eyes, to lean back into him, but she can’t lose herself in the moment. Ben Solo is so close to the Light but he isn’t there just yet. She didn’t come here for this.

_Later_ , a breathless part of her mind promises. _There’ll be time for all of this later_.

Before Rey can speak – to ask Ben to stop, to ask him for more – there’s a low hum, and the elevator is bathed in dim yellow light. Whether it’s a backup generator or just the emergency lights, the elevator makes no other signs of coming back to life. Relieved and disappointed in equal measure, Rey pushes her way out of Ben’s arms.

“The elevator’s broken,” she says. Her voice cracks on what has to be the most obvious statement ever uttered in the galaxy, but Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He clears his throat and flexes his fingers.

“I can fix it,” Rey continues. She turns to face Ben and thrusts her hands out. “Take these off.”

Ben’s gaze flicks down to her handcuffs, and then back to her face. He doesn’t smile anymore, as far as Rey can tell, but there’s a quirk to his lips that suggests he hasn’t forgotten how.

“You want to fix the elevator,” Ben says, his flat tone robbing the words of their question. “Are you really that eager to meet the Supreme Leader?” The sardonic words have barely left his mouth before he stiffens. His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.”

With those harsh words, the atmosphere tightens into an unfriendly, resentful thing once more. It infuriates Rey to have been so close to something soft, only to have it snatched away by the reality of their situation.

“Yes,” she scoffs, “everything leading up to this moment has been exactly according to my plan. That’s why I’m _handcuffed_ in an _elevator_!”

“What choice did you leave me?” Ben snaps. Rey doesn’t move, despite her instincts telling her to scramble back. “Near enough the entire crew saw Luke Skywalker’s apprentice land in the hangar bay, and you expected me to – what?” His frustration is undercut with fear and helplessness. “If I hadn’t taken you away in chains, we’d both be dead.”

_Understand_ , he seems to urge with his eyes. The look softens the spiky edges of Rey’s temper.

“You’re bringing me to Snoke,” she reminds him quietly. “I’m dead anyway.”

“ _No_.” The force behind the denial twists Ben’s lips into a snarl. “He’ll see your potential, and he’ll spare you.”

The fervent hope in his stare borders on manic. Rey is almost afraid of how desperately he’s trying to convince himself. Her plan – which she can now admit _may_ not have been overly thought out – hinges on Kylo Ren turning back to the Light. He’ll have to abandon whatever counterplan he has of her embracing the Dark. If he doesn’t, Rey might not leave this ship alive.

Rey swallows down her apprehension. She turns away to stare at the doors, assuming the position she had been in before the elevator’s breakdown. Maybe she can pretend nothing has happened. It might work, if not for the nagging urge to _talk_ to Ben, to try and sway him around to the future she had seen for them both.

“I’m not Skywalker’s apprentice,” she says after some moments have passed in fraught silence.

“What?”

“Earlier,” Rey says, fixing her eyes forward. “You said the entire First Order saw Luke Skywalker’s apprentice arrive. Well, I’m not.”

“Good,” Ben huffs after a moment. “That man isn’t fit to teach anyone.”

There’s a lot to say about the toxic levels of bitterness in his tone, but Rey will let it go.

Rey _should_ let it go.

Except Ben has to know that he isn’t alone. The gentle assurances they had swapped in the hut on Ahch-To were a start, but Rey imagines they have both been let down by flippant words too many times to take them as promises.

She draws in a breath and turns around. Ben stands a few paces away. He doesn’t look at her. His rigid posture speaks of a man psyching himself up to make one more terrible decision.

“I fought Skywalker, after the hut,” Rey tells him. She frowns at the memory. “I was so angry to learn the truth.”

Ben’s dark eyes flicker to hers. “Why?”

His bewilderment, and the answering pang in Rey’s chest, pushes her three steps closer. It’s enough that she has to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. He stares back, his deepening confusion mixing with wariness. Once he realizes she has not moved to attack him, his gaze loses its sharpness.

“Because it wasn’t right, Ben,” Rey says softly. “What he did to you wasn’t right.”

She can’t have been the only one to ever tell him that, and yet Ben draws in a quiet, almost revelatory breath. He doesn’t speak, but he gazes down at Rey as though she is something indescribably precious.

Rey’s throat goes dry. No one has ever looked at her like that before.

It seems only right that, in response, Rey does something she’s never done before.

She surges upwards until her mouth meets Ben’s. It’s a graceless move – eagerness does not translate into expertise – and Rey’s utter lack of experience in these matters lingers worriedly in the back of her mind. The fact that Ben is frozen beneath her lips does nothing to boost her confidence. Disheartened, Rey is about to pull away when, _finally_ , Ben kisses her back. His kiss is a tender thing, in keeping with the reverent looks and touches he has given her so cautiously.

Then, with a snarl, his hands clamp around her upper arms. Without letting go, he shoves Rey backwards until she hits the low-lit elevator walls. A thrill chases through Rey, until she realizes that Ben isn’t kissing her anymore. His fingers tighten around her. _Stars_ , he’s tall. Rey had never given it much thought before, but now he’s inches from her and the broad expanse of his black-clad chest is all she can see.

Rey risks a glance up. Ben’s angry, which isn’t the reaction she’d been going for, but – yes, there, beneath the blazing eyes and taut lines around his mouth, there’s a hunger, a desperation. His eyes flick between her own and then back down to her lips, lingering there longer and longer with each return.

When he speaks, it’s in a tone that manages to be both hard and hazy.

“If you think you can distract me –”

“I _know_ I can distract you,” Rey interrupts. It’s awkward going, but she wriggles her bound hands up and rests them on his chest. Where this sudden boldness has come from, she has no idea, but the way his breath hitches is just further encouragement. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then _why_?”

Ben’s chest heaves beneath her fingertips. Rey focuses on the rise and fall rather than answer him. There’s a heart somewhere beneath this mass of sturdy black. She wonders if it’s pounding as fast as hers is.

“Rey.”

Her name is a rebuke, a reminder, and a plea all in one. Rey lifts her gaze to Ben’s and presses her lips together.

_Don’t make me say it_ , she thinks. _If I say it out loud, it’s just one more thing I have to lose._

The Force connection they share might not encompass mind-reading, but Ben seems to understand anyway. If he’s disappointed by Rey’s refusal to give a name to whatever curious energy sparks between them, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his grip loosens. One hand stays on Rey’s arm, but the other begins its slow trace upwards. His fingers are slower this time, working not on instinct but on want. When he reaches the neckline of her shirt, he hesitates. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, betraying his nervousness.

“It’s okay.” Rey doesn’t recognise her own voice. She isn’t sure what she’s giving him permission for, exactly, only that she knows she wants him to keep going. It feels like she’s on the brink of something new and exciting, and she fears it as much as she craves it.

But Ben lets her go. Rey frowns up at him, hurt and confused, and again there’s that ghost of a smile from him. His gloves drop to the ground with a double slap, and then his hands resume their place on her body. One hand settles against her waist, while the other rises to her neck. Rey’s indignation fades into the soft buzz of something close to contentment. His hands are warm against her skin.

Ben presses lightly against her pulse. His thumb trails down into the divot of her collarbones. Rey shivers. It’s a vulnerable, dangerous position. To have her fragile throat wrapped in the enemy’s hand should be unthinkable. Yet Rey keeps a watch on Ben’s expression, as though she’s making a study of him, and there’s a rawness carved into his features that makes it seem like she could shatter him with a word.

Power thrums though Rey. She could topple or rule an empire with the strength that expression gives her.

Slowly, painfully so, Ben’s hand wanders down to the enclosed V of her shirt. His hooded gaze follows his own progress as Rey shivers. He stops at the hemline and lifts his eyes to hers in an unspoken question. Rey nods. Her mouth is too dry to speak anyway.

As he slips the twin grey sashes over her shoulders and down her arms, Rey tries not to shudder. She’s still fully dressed, after all, even if the layers over her simple white shirt have been drawn away. It takes Rey a moment to identify the feeling coiling low in her stomach as anticipation. She’s never given much thought to her body before. She learned its weaknesses and limitations while scavenging on Jakku, and the rare times she could wash were passed in brisk detachment. Her body was the tool she used to its peak endurance in order to gain more portions. Its knowledge of pleasure began and ended with finding shade in the scorching midday sun, or drinking down water with the knowledge that there was more to spare.

But this. This is new.

Ben slides his hand down over her clothed breast and cups it gently. Rey watches him and marvels distantly at how small she seems in comparison. The echo of insecurity flares in her mind, before she pushes it away. If she even thought to feel inferior, the heated intensity of Ben’s eyes would promise her otherwise. His breathing grows unsteady as he brushes a thumb over her nipple. It pebbles at the attention, poking through the thin fabric of her shirt. Quicker than reason, Ben tweaks it between his thumb and forefinger.

A choked noise escapes Rey. The sound is half-shock, half-pleasure, with a rippling undercurrent of pain. Ben’s hand stills instantly. His eyes flash up to hers in unspoken concern. Rey almost groans again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t know how good his touches feel. He thinks he’s hurting her, like he’s hurt so many others.

“It’s okay,” Rey murmurs again, shaking her head. “Keep going.”

“Wait,” Ben mutters. He sounds as strangled as she feels.

There’s a quiet beep, and Rey’s handcuffs fall to the floor with a low _thunk_. Forgetting her earlier urges that Ben continue his explorations, Rey’s hands fly up to tangle in Ben’s hair. Whether she pulls him down or he moves of his own accord, their lips meet again in a series of hot, desperate kisses. She’s crushed against the wall as Ben moves closer. He grinds his hips into hers as Rey gasps against his mouth. She’s overwhelmed, torn between _Too much_ and _Don’t stop_ , but her desire outpaces her rationality. She shifts to try and quell the warmth pulsing between her thighs. Ben groans at the friction.

Rey wants to be touched again. She _needs_ to be touched again. She had gone so many years without knowing what kind of power lay in a clever pair of hands and an eager set of lips.

Fluorescent white lights flood the walls around them. The elevator powers back to life with a set of chirping beeps. It rumbles and then begins an unmistakeable ascent.

Rey’s heart pounds for a different reason now. She sets her leg down from where it had tangled around Ben’s – When had she done _that?_ – and tries to regulate her breathing. Her face must be crimson. Ben tears himself away from her with a frustrated growl. He stalks to the other side of the too-small space, breathing heavily. He won’t look at her.

“Ben –” Rey tries, only to be cut off by the look he levels at her. His aggravation is evident in the way his mouth works over itself, but desire still darkens his eyes.

“You have to put these back on.” Ben bends down to retrieve her handcuffs and then dangles them from his outstretched fingers. At Rey’s frown, his brusqueness fades. “I’m sorry.”

Rey holds out her hands, her eyes fixing on his in defiance. She won’t beg, and she won’t use what just happened to bargain or manipulate. Ben Solo has to choose the Light for himself, not be seduced into it. That said, there’s very little about the way Ben’s eyes rake over her body that she could call Light.

The handcuffs lock into place. Rey turns towards the doors as the elevator slows. Exhilaration courses through her. She’s ready to face whatever lies behind the doors, and she’s confident that she won’t have to face it alone.

“Snoke won’t hurt you,” Ben says from behind her.

Unlike his earlier desperate assurances, this statement is cold and factual, like there should be _I won’t let him_ tagged on the end of it. Rey glances at him over her shoulder and nods once. She has to trust him in this.

Ben’s gaze locks onto hers with a fierce, branding promise.

Rey exhales slowly as the doors slide open.


End file.
